by Andrea Roylance A cold lake filled with wilted leaves, ash, and broken branches from a toxic tree sits at the edge of my consciousness. The lake’s waters are as still as death. Although the surface mirrors a pretty scene, the depths are murky with ghosts of the past, and…
by Leonora Ross Winter can take its time here in the mountains. Last year, we had snow in June, and summer felt like an advertisement for an island vacation on the cover of a shiny brochure you wished you could but didn’t have money to go on. But when the…
by William Heath Beware the strange attractorthat bubbles in the pot,makes the smoke curl upfrom the butt in the ashtray.Have you wondered whythe weatherman so often getsit wrong, or the healthy heartbreaks into wild fibrillations? Chaos is a far cry frommere randomness. High above our headsa tempestuous ballerinaperforms upon a tightrope,she…